Encounters Read online

  New Lands Online, A LitRPG Series

  Book 1: Encounters

  By A.O. Storm

  This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidence. Copyright 2020 A.O. Storm, all rights reserved. New Lands Online, A LitRPG Series Book 1: Encounters is published by JG Publishing LLC. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Prologue - Medical Breakthrough

  An elderly woman, standing in in the middle of the street in her small gated community, grew anxious as she searched for her missing cat. The sun was high overhead and the day was warm. She looked up at the tree she was standing under in frustration, her brow furrowed, wondering how her cat had climbed so high. The elderly woman glanced down the sidewalk, hoping someone would come along who might assist her.

  Not a minute later, she saw two people walking by who seemed like they could help. The crying from her cat up in one of the tree limbs punctuated her urgency to get him down. Her floral dress, a gaudy color, contrasted sharply with the black asphalt, green leafed trees and pastel colored buildings. The men were crossing the street away from her. "Sir! Sir, can you help me?"

  Turning slowly, one of the two, a thick, tall former MMA fighter looked at her with a combination of surprise and curiosity.

  "What do you want?" His tone was not friendly nor was it hostile. Stopping a few feet away, his anorexic companion, tall and dressed in a lab coat, pushed up his wire rimmed glasses and appeared irritated at the delay.

  Stopping just shy of the larger man, the little old woman looked up with an earnest, kind smile. "Up in the tree!" She pointed across the street, the black asphalt empty of traffic in the gated community. "My poor kitty is stuck up there."

  Tugging on the muscular man’s sleeve, seemingly unaware of his brief look of irritation, she took a step into the street. "Can you help me get Daisy down?" Walking slowly, she had a firm grip on his blazer jacket and the massive man allowed himself to be pulled toward the tree, mindful of not bringing unwanted attention from neighbors.

  Watching his companion cross the street, the impatient man in the lab coat stood there, shaking his head, knowing he could not change Carl's mind. He had no idea what his partner was thinking, stopping to help a poor old woman, but it was the nicest thing he'd ever seen Carl do in their three-year history. He couldn't resist calling out, "Carl, I thought you were an MMA fighter before? Since when were you a fireman?" Chuckling, he shook his head and looked around at the houses around them, eager to finish their task and leave. The scientist knew the less time they spent there, where people could see, the better. When he glanced back, he didn’t have time to stop what happened next.

  "I'll get your kitty down," Carl said, shaking the old woman's hand off his suit jacket, "promptly." Reaching a thick hand into his jacket he withdrew a slim, black handgun. Covering the barrel was a military grade silencer, a long tube that doubled the weapon's length. Shaped much like a regular handgun, the entire grip had been custom 3d printed to fit the man's hand. The result was an untraceable, silent killing weapon.

  "What are you doing?" the old woman cried, covering her mouth with her hands.

  The motley colored kitten may have been a year old, meowing softly as it walked out onto the branch. Framed in the early morning sunshine of summer, it was a classic pose. Stretching, the kitten cried louder, arching its back and stretching.

  The gun let out a whisper of a sound and the plastic parts clacked audibly under the pressure of the small caliber round being shot. The kitten disappeared from sight, a few pink droplets covering the branch where the kitten had been perched.

  The old woman stared in shock and horror, her mouth open in as if a scream was caught in her throat. Carl didn’t give her the chance.

  Swinging faster than a man of his size should normally move, he struck her on the back of her head and her body crumpled in the street. Carl stood over her for a moment to make sure she was out cold. Looking up, he strode across the street, business-like and moving faster than he had earlier. When he crossed and reached his partner, who still could barely believe what he'd seen, Carl kept walking.

  "Come on, we don't want to be late," Carl said, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder, walking past his companion.

  "Right," the other man said, stepping quickly to catch up to Carl.

  ******

  The door reverberated loudly as someone pounded on it from outside. Surprised, Jim looked at his wife, Carol, and raised an eyebrow. Middle-aged and friendly to all, Jim Gerswhitz was a balding gentleman with a fringe of gray left around the sides of his smooth, round head. Equally spherical glasses gave him a curious, chipmunk-like expression, which Carol adored. She looked back at Jim in confusion, a pensive look and her brows furrowed as she shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not expecting anyone,” she said.

  "I'll get it," Jim said, giving his wife a peck on the cheek as he walked by. Carol was only a few years younger with careworn eyes, a youthful physique, and long blonde hair that showed little of the gray streaks she had. They were relaxing in front of a three-dimensional projection screen, which made it seem as if the wall disappeared into a tropical scene. They never had time to enjoy a real vacation with Jim’s work, so they pretended with the expensive almost holographic display to be relaxing on a beach instead of sitting inside their townhouse.

  "Are you expecting anyone?" Carol asked, wondering who could be banging on their door so early on a Saturday morning. Jim worked a lot, including most weekends, but that weekend he was at home specifically to spend extra time with her.

  "No, but, it could be important," Jim said. Carol sighed in acceptance and went back to watching the ocean cascading onto the digital beach in front of her. She’d long since resigned herself to sharing Jim with his work.

  As Jim opened the door, he saw two men standing in the doorway of their townhouse. One was a thin, older man with bushy white hair and wire rim glasses. His cheeks were hollow and his nose large. For some reason, Jim likened him to an old, starving vulture. The other man, standing behind the vulture, was well over six feet and had a wrestler's muscular build. The tanned skin of his baldhead gave him a menacing look, despite his expensive suit. Jim could see the arms were custom tailored for his bulk and an overcoat rested over one of his giant arms. Jim had no idea who the two men were and was surprised to see them.

  "Can I help you gentleman?” Jim asked but they both stared at him without changing expressions. “Do you need directions to one of the other townhouses? The complex can be confusing for visitors," Jim said, smiling. His face was cherubic when he smiled and matched his congenial personality.

  "I'm Dr. Von Drakeson," the anorexic man said. Jim was tempted to offer him a sandwich, despite not knowing him. "This is Mr. Deeter." The larger man dipped his head, smiling, which did nothing to appease the ill feeling in Jim's stomach. "We're here about the research your company is doing into genetic modification. May we come in?" Jim motioned them inside and they walked past him as he shut the door. They didn’t wait for him, walking into the living room where his wife turned to see the strangers entering their home.

  Looking over at his wife, Jim shared a concerned look, which she mirrored. Swallowing hard, he squinted, pushing up his glasses needlessly, a nervous habit he’d had since grade school. "How did you know about what G and L Laboratories is working on? It's covered by a very thorough NDA, even with our investors."

  "Apologies, Mr. Gershwitz," Drakeson said. "One of your venture capital investors is also on the board of our firm and thought that, given our parallel research efforts, we should talk to you directly." Pausing, the professor looked apologetic. "I'm here because Andrea Hulman phoned my company yesterday, and we flew here last night. I apologize for not calling
ahead first. My employer has a unique proposal for you."

  "Please, have a seat," Jim said, gesturing to the dining table's leather-backed chairs. "Can I offer you some water or coffee?

  "No thank you, sir," the doctor said. "I'm afraid we don't have much time to chat today, and my firm is very insistent we make you an offer."

  "What?" Jim's jowls bobbled and Carol looked shocked. "It must be because of our last round of venture funding, right? They know we're close to clinical trials."

  Mr. Deeter set a briefcase on the table and clicked it open, then set a large manila envelope on the table. "Here. Read these," Carl said, voice deep.

  "Those are the terms of the purchase," Dr. Von Drakeson said, giving Mr. Deeter, seated to his right, a stern look.

  "Well," Jim said, opening the folder and taking a look, "if we can get board approval on the sale, the Omega R13 project could be sold to you."

  "I’m sorry, Mr. Gershwitz, you don’t seem to understand," the doctor said. "We are going to buy your company entirely."

  Carol looked shocked, even though she was trying to only half listen, and chimed in, "Jim, you can't sell! It's almost our baby."

  Stunned by the figures in the paperwork and on the cover sheet, Jim took a deep breath before replying to his wife of thirty years. "Honey,” Jim said and showed her the offer. It was over six hundred million.

  Carol stared at the cover sheet then up at her husband, suddenly smiling. "You could retire on that. We could get that boat you’ve been wanting. If this is a serious offer, then I say go for it!" While she was also passionate about the G and L’s mission, with their children grown and money not an issue, only time, she was excited about the prospect of sharing more with her husband. They both smiled at one another, their unspoken decision already understood.

  *******

  Six weeks later, Jim and Carol were out taking their first solo trip with their multimillion-dollar yacht, a sixty-foot, three-cabin work of modern luxury. Never in his career as a laboratory engineer, then later entrepreneur, had Jim imagined retiring wealthy. The day with the two strange men had seemed odd, but weeks after the deal closed to sell his company, he could not be happier. Stephen Launderson, their long-time business partner and friend, had been visited at home later the same day. He received and took the same offer, each partner of G and L clearing nine figures out of the deal.

  News reports about the massive acquisition, the largest in Platnam Inc.'s seventy plus year history, carpeted the media for several weeks after the announcement. Founded during the Second World War, Platnam was a multinational conglomerate worth tens of billions. Their stock price never reflected the firm's true value, as they held board seats, securities and bonds in major industries ranging from telecommunications to pharmaceutical to banking and military contracting. G and L, after the sale, became one of their many portfolio companies. When counting influence, Platnam was one of the most far-reaching firms in the world, with most major governments having direct or indirect business dealings with one of their divisions.

  Despite the less than stellar reputation of the company, especially the division involved in military contracting, Jim and Carol never considered them dangerous.

  Laughing on the yacht, Carol pulled a bottle of champagne out of the built in wine cellar, determined to pop the cork, even as they approached open water and the boat shook with the passing waves. Sunlight streamed into the custom fitted, extra large windows. Also custom ordered by Carol was the dark, laminate flooring. In the background, their favorite song was playing, mingling with the sounds of the waves crashing against the boat. One of the Rolling Stones greatest hits, the classic lyrics had them dancing and singing together, "Satisfaction!"

  Jim smiled at his wife; feeling like it was the very best day of his life. Carol, returning his look with a smile of her own, knocked back some of the champagne straight from the bottle. Then Carol grabbed the wheel with one hand, passing the bubbly to Jim.

  Their moment was interrupted as the yacht exploded in flames. In the quarter second between the fireball engulfing first the engine room at the back and then the pilot's area, they had only a moment to react before their lives were extinguished in the blast. A half hour later, despite the rapid response of the coast guard just outside of Miami, the once new and sparkling yacht was just another hulking wreck decorating the ocean floor.

  The search for their bodies went on for half a day, when finally one of the manned submarines found partially intact remains from the incineration. Stephen Launderson, the other majority shareholder and co-founder of G and L, succumbed to a heart attack later the same day, before the news broke of the boating accident.

  In the weeks following the two founders of G and L Laboratories passing there was a scandal about the viability of their flagship drug, code-named Omega R13. The news about the drug scandal overshadowed the tragic deaths of the co-founders. A few former employees of G and L attempted to launch a lawsuit, citing their FDA approved trials and the long history of the project. One by one, each attempt to resuscitate the drug project or prove it was not a fraud disappeared until months later it became old news.

  The payday for the founders had become a series of tragic losses, first for themselves and then their former employees. Platnam’s full involvement in the G and L scandal, as the media called it, remained a mystery.

  One - Snowboarding Lesson

  "Kano, do you have any kids to teach today?"

  The gruff voice on the other end of the line was Miles, his dad, a former skier and thrill-seeking snowboarding junkie. Between his dad and friends, Kano ended up hitting the slopes more than any other kids all through middle and high school, with a season pass always on the agenda growing up. Despite his dad's disappointment at the fact that he had never tried to turn pro, he thought his mom was relieved he wasn't trying to do crazy backflips on the half-pipe. His dad was another issue.

  "Yes, dad, I have a full day of private lessons booked. I'm doing well, don't worry," Kano said.

  He had finished college but then decided to hit the slopes and work as a snowboarding instructor for the eight months of the year that it made sense. The off-months, Kano spent time hitting the gym, hanging out with his girlfriend and trying to avoid his parents' questions about, "What are you doing with your life?" The best bit they reenacted, to his mind, was the, "We didn't send you to college for you to spend all your time teaching little kids how to snowboard." Or, "You didn't need to go to college for that, you know."

  Back to the present, Kano said, "That's great to hear. How about tomorrow?"

  Usually, Miles wasn't this persistent, but the following day was Monday, so Kano gave a soft chuckle and replied, "No, I don't have anything booked yet, but I usually get drop-ins this time of year."

  "Save the day for me. I'm taking the day off and wanted to have a talk, in person. Also to get some boarding in at the same time. What do you say?"

  Swallowing the obvious, "I need to work, dad," or, "Save me the lecture, you can do it just fine on the phone," answers, Kano replied, "Great. I'll see you tomorrow."

  After clicking off his smartphone, Kano glanced at the television. His roommate, Charlie, was sprawled on the couch in their tiny two-bedroom apartment in Lake Tahoe. Over six foot, he was taller than Kano by several inches and tended to blame his height for his less than awesome snowboarding skills. Charlie was a self-proclaimed newshound and would follow CNN, CNBC, local and national news, as well as read tons of online sites.

  "Dude," he said when he saw Kano walk over and plop down next to him, "have you been following this G and L scandal?"

  "No man, I haven't. Why?"

  "It's crazy, these guys sold their company, the founders both died, and then it turns out the whole drug research they had going was some kind of ponzi scheme," Charlie said, anxious and excited. "Do you believe it?"

  "Sure, it's on CNN," Kano said. In general he did not believe in conspiracy theories or boogeymen. "Why wouldn’t I believe it?"

&n
bsp; "There was never an investigation into the yacht explosion," Charlie said, "even though with any kind of accident like that, there should be an investigation into the cause, to determine if the manufacturer was at fault."

  Kano sighed. He had zero interest in debating the topic. "Fine, Charlie. Yes, there should be an investigation. I'm sure that somebody will figure out what happened in due time." He cleared his throat. "My dad's coming tomorrow."

  "What?" Charlie sat up and looked around the apartment, saw the empty beer cans, the dirty laundry and then sniffed the air, realizing it smelled like a pigsty. "Dude, he can't stay here."

  "I know," Kano said. "But in case I can't get him to stay elsewhere, after my lessons today, I'm going to clean up a bit." He glanced meaningfully at his friend. "You are going to owe me."

  Charlie gave him a disgusted look and got up to head to their small kitchen. Pouring himself a bowl of cereal, he started eating with one of the spoons that, while dirty, was at least dry. Kano gave his friend a level look while Charlie kept eating with his dirty silverware, grinning as if to say, "Who cares." Walking into the kitchen, Kano started picking bowls, plates and other dirty items out of the sink and setting them on the tiny counter. Then he rinsed out the sink, splashing water all over his gray t-shirt but not caring.

  Twenty minutes later, Kano had the worst of the sink cleaned up and all but a few pans left to wash. Satisfied for the moment, he dried a bowl and spoon to fetch some granola. Charlie was a great guy, but with his hygiene routine, Kano was constantly surprised his friend didn't fall victim to every other cold and flu that came through.

  Charlie had since plopped back onto the couch and left his bowl on the table before heading to his room. Shaking his head as he ate, Kano understood exactly why Charlie was still single. Most women would never date a slob like him, even though he was a very nice guy and fun to hang out with. The last time Charlie had successfully dated a woman long enough to convince her to come back to their place, she'd taken one look, said she felt ill and never returned his calls or texts. Kano grinned at the memory of his friend getting ghosted, even though he did feel a little bad.